In The Land of Women
by BluEyes
Summary: Chandler muses about his relationship with women, specifically, the three most important women in his life, post-break-up with Kathy.


**In The Land of Women**

~.~

_This is Post-TOW Joey's Dirty Day. Just some friendship-y musings of Chandler on the three women in his life…_

~.~

**From _TOW Joey's Dirty Day:_**

**Chandler:** Phase Three! I just achieved Phase Three!

**Monica:** Really?

**Chandler:** I am totally picturing you with all those women!

**Monica:** That's-that's not Phase Three.

**Chandler:** Well, I'm there too!

**Rachel:** Well, are we all together? Like in a group?

**Chandler:** Stop it! You're killing me! I think I just moved on to Phase Four!

**Phoebe:** Oh! What is that? What is that?

**Chandler:** Where I don't want to have a relationship ever! I just want to have sex with strippers and my friends!

~.~

Chandler adjusted slightly in his position on the girls' couch, careful not to move too much and disturb Rachel, who was cuddled up beside him, not wanting to make the moment any kind of awkward. In all honesty, he had no desire to finish whatever stupid chick-flick they were watching (the third one of the night), but he had stayed up with Rachel, anyway, after Phoebe left and Monica went to bed.

After the girls had taken him to the strip club to attempt to help him get over Kathy and they had discovered that they were not good at being guys because they were girls, they had decided to do just that: be girls. They had decided on a movie night complete with ice cream and stupid chick-flicks (alcohol would have to wait until later, they explained…don't want to get drunk and call up the person you're trying to get over), and Chandler had reluctantly agreed.

It hadn't been the worst way to spend a night, he had decided, as he sat squished between Monica and Rachel on their couch, both of them being overly affectionate. The three of them has shared their three tubs of ice cream (the good stuff—Ben & Jerry's), while Phoebe sat on the love seat, all but threatening death on anyone who attempted to steal a spoonful of ice cream from a pregnant lady. The movies hadn't been anything Chandler had cared for (though, they did start off the night by watching _Sophie's Choice_, and he had wondered why the hell watching a movie that made them cry was something girls did in order to cheer up), and the latter two movies had been insignificantly funny or sad or entertaining, though the girls in them were attractive enough to hold a bit of his attention, but he had decided that being doted on by three attractive women was more helpful than anything they had thrown at him in an attempt to cheer him up.

Because he wasn't going to lie and say his best three female friends _weren't_ attractive. And he wasn't going to pretend like the thoughts they had planted in his mind earlier, after the strip club, weren't still there. There may have been a brief fantasy they had implanted in his mind of never again having a relationship, and, instead, just sleeping with strippers and his friends. And it may or may not have been in great detail.

Because his best female friends _were_ attractive. For one, he'd always felt that he and Monica were always a few drinks away from ending up in bed together, though he'd chosen never to play his cards in such a away, fearing the repercussions if he did so. Well, that and he lacked the balls to do so. Lack of balls and fear of the repercussions, that's why he'd never pushed the boundaries with Monica to find out where they lie, not wanting to lose Monica as a friend.

And Phoebe…well, Phoebe was pregnant, but, under normal circumstances…. Okay, Phoebe was attractive, but Chandler couldn't bring himself to think of her in that way. It felt…incestuously wrong. He didn't have any siblings, but she felt like a big sister. Sure, she was attractive, but he was not attracted to her. And she was the one who would give him tough love and a bit of an ass-kicking, if he needed one, while Monica and Rachel were giving him love and affection. Not that Mon couldn't be capable of the ass-kicking. But he found her bossy, controlling-ness slightly hot. And Rachel...

Rachel. Oh, Rachel Green. See, he wouldn't admit it out loud, but he had always found Rachel attractive. Attractive and intimidating. Incredibly, incredibly intimidating. Like, if he wasn't friends with her, he probably wouldn't have the balls to go up and talk to her. Well, except the one time, back when Central Perk was still a bar, and it involved _actual_ balls, and he hadn't recognized her at first (and had never admitted to Monica that he'd just hit on _RachelFreakingGreen_). But she was intimidating in that _good_ way, if that made any kind of sense. Intimidating in that way that was also incredibly sexy.

She had always been Ross's, though. Ross's fantasy girl. And that made it wrong for him to admit that he also found her attractive. Well, him and the majority of the male population. But, being that she had been Ross's (though Ross had blown it majorly, and Chandler would be reluctant to admit out loud that he sided with Rachel on the whole on-a-break thing), he would never do anything to pursue her. Well, except that one time, in college, when they were drunk, and he had kissed her. But, those two factors (college and alcohol) were a great cover for many indiscretions that would be unforgivable later in life. _Dude, you really did that?—Yea, but I was in __**college**__ and __**so wasted**__!_

And so they sat, watching the end of some chick flick—_Fried Green Tomatoes_, was it? Was there really a movie with such a ridiculous title? It was something like that, anyway, and after hearing just the title, he had failed to pay any kind of attention to the movie. Phoebe had left halfway through the second movie, and Monica had gone to bed soon after this one had started, and though Chandler had little desire to actually finish this movie, he had stayed up with Rachel doing just that. Really, he didn't want to admit that he had no desire to peel his body away from hers, her head against his chest, arm strewn across him, his hand resting (awkwardly? It felt awkward to him, at least) on her side as she lay there, cuddling with him on the couch.

He was this affectionate with Monica. He enjoyed their, his and Monica's, ability to just…fit together, just so, in an affectionately intimate way, one that made him feel a slight twinge of guilt if either of them was currently seeing someone. This with Rachel, though, was new. Actually, his time alone with Rachel was usually in half-hour or so doses over their lunch hour, when they would trade work-related anecdotes and other silly things…and there may or may not have been the occasional venting/mocking of Monica and Ross and their…Geller-ness. The rest of the time, though, the two spent little time together without the rest of the group, or at least a buffer of Monica or Ross.

The one recent exception had been the Rangers game he had taken her to in order to make up for the disastrous set-up he had attempted between her and one of his co-workers. That night…had been fun. Really fun. He'd gotten to make her laugh and cheer her up and taught her the appropriate times to scream at the players on the ice, and she had been adorable in her screaming, and he been comfortable as they walked, arm-in-arm, home in silence. And he was not usually comfortable in silence. Actually, the night that had led to that night, in some weird way, the night he had taken Rachel as a date to an office party, had also been fun.

Maybe they didn't spend enough one-on-one time together.

Maybe he should focus his energy, though, on spending one-on-one time with women who actually did want to sleep with him, because he was inching his way toward thirty and had had a whopping two relationships in that span of time. And both of those women had cheated on him.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

"What?" Rachel looked up at him sleepily, having been fixated on the movie in a sleepy trance.

"Is there something, you know, fundamentally wrong with me?" he repeated as Rachel sat up slowly. "I've had, what, two actual relationships, ever? And Janice cheated on me and went back to her husband. And Kathy…" he trailed off momentarily. "With Kathy, despite the way it started, I thought-I thought…I thought that was it. I thought, you know, that she was-she was the one. And then-and then she cheated on me, too," he took a deep, shaky breath as he paused, pulling himself together. "So, is there something fundamentally wrong with me, something un-dateable or un-marryable or-or just _something_ that has driven the only two women I've trusted in that way, to have considered a future with, to be unfaithful to me?"

"God, sweetie, no," Rachel shook her head, rubbing his arm reassuringly. "No, no, not at all."

"Then, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Rachel stated adamantly. "I might deny ever saying these words in the future," she smiled slightly to show she was teasing, "but, Chandler, there is nothing wrong with you."

"Right," he scoffed.

Rachel paused, hand lingering on his arm. "You know, for all of the guys I dated in high school and college, a never-ending string of guys who were anything but serious, I…I'm pretty sure I've only had two serious relationships ever," she glanced up at Chandler, who was watching her intently. "Barry and Ross. We both know how everything with Ross ended, and Barry…Barry was sleeping with my best friend. So," she shrugged, "my only two serious relationships also ended with both of them cheating on me."

"They're both fucking idiots."

Rachel laughed at Chandler's response to that. "My point was that there is _nothing_ wrong with you, Chandler," she said softly, holding eye contact. "Your biggest flaw is your _incredible_ lack of self-confidence-"

"Which is really a complement-"

"_And_ your incurable sarcasm."

"Also, really, a complement."

Rachel laughed slightly. "Chandler Bing, I am trying to be serious." Chandler grinned slightly, but nodded for her to go on, continuing to hold the eye contact. "There is nothing wrong with you, and you are smart and funny and-and sexy…."

"And if anyone who felt anything other than platonic towards me would ever say that, I might be able to fix the self-confidence thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and Monica, and Phoebe, for that matter, can say those things as many times as you want, but it doesn't really change my track record with dating and make it any more successful."

"So-"

"So, the only three women who say that are three women, three incredibly attractive women, who think I'm _so great_, yet have no feelings other than completely platonic towards me, and-"

Chandler was cut off by Rachel leaning in to kiss him, haphazardly, at first, slightly clumsily as they both felt for their bearings, and then slowly, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands settling on either side of the curve of her hips. They both finally pulled away, Chandler tentatively searching her eyes, wondering where _that_ had come from.

"And Monica would sleep with you in a heartbeat," Rachel added slowly. "You may lack self-confidence, but we both know that you know that."

"I-I didn't. I-I," Chandler trailed off, shaking his head, not sure what to say to that.

"Night, Chandler," Rachel leaned in, kissing his cheek, before standing up and heading towards her room.

Chandler stared after her for a moment, not finding his voice until her door was already closed.

Huh.

"Night, Rach," he whispered to the closed door, grateful for the point she had just proven (and not about to complain about her method of delivery in doing so).

Huh, indeed….

~.~

_Reviews? Please and thanks! Pretty sure this is just a one-shot that could slide neatly into canon. Or, it could have different implications entirely and go AU, but I think I like it sliding neatly into canon… And, this is one of those fics I thought of and immediately wrote and posted impulsively, so excuse any typos...  
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